


Things We Lost in the Fire

by yorkisms



Series: Lazer Team Playlist Fics [4]
Category: Lazer Team (2015)
Genre: Herman smokes and people swear, M/M, background OCs - Freeform, the dads are trying. trying to make out i mean make up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorkisms/pseuds/yorkisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you understand that we will never be the same again?<br/>Do you understand that we will never be the same again?<br/>The future's in our hands and we will never be the same again<br/>The future's in our hands and we will never be the same again.</p><p>Or: Herman, Hagan, and the path towards something that they've both been circling for a while now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Lost in the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is kind of intermediary, emotions and content wise. It's mostly meta, and can stand alone without the other pieces of this series, but it does work best read in tandem with bad blood (chronologically first) and its sequel, whispers in the dark.

_Things we lost to the flames_  
_Things we'll never see again_  
_All that we've amassed_  
_Sits before us, shattered into ash_

Hagan and Herman agree that they can try, at least, to go back to being friends having forgiven each other. 

It's not as easy as it sounds. They've both changed so profoundly that it's almost like starting a new relationship entirely.

But with the added burden of previous concepts and impressions.

It's hard, they're realizing, to look at someone you used to know as if they're new.

But they talk, and they try. It's awkward and slow, and maybe more than once Zach slyly digs at the romantic undertones one might detect between them and drags Woody off to give them some alone time. 

That's when they talk seriously.

DETIA lets them stay at home a while. Things are...almost normal. But things have changed anyway. 

Zach spends most of his time quiet and off the grid, unlike usual. The football team asked what to do on the topic of replacing him, and his only input was that he doesn't care what they do.

He spends more and more of his time with Woody and Mindy, which surprises Hagan alone, but it's not as surprising as when one night he's sent Mindy to stay with her mother for the weekend as per usual; then at his door there's a knock and Herman is there.

Woody's off with Zach doing god-knows-what, and it's almost as if they sensed each others' loneliness.

They watch game shows on the couch, commenting offhand about the idiots playing.

It's awkward, but the ice is melting (so slow) and it makes their hearts feel (just a little) warm.

 _These are the things, the things we lost_  
_The things we lost in the fire fire fire_  
_These are the things, the things we lost_  
_The things we lost in the fire fire fire_

Herman finds out from Woody, who found out from Zach, that the photos still exist. 

"You mean our high school photos?"

"Yeah, Zachary found some when we stayed at the cabin, and he says those were Ms Kolbe's." 

"You mean Marina."  
Woody seems uncomfortable being on a first name basis with Mindy's mom (who he only knows peripherally anyway), but he nods.

"Shit, I didn't think he'd keep them."

"Zachary said that Mindy knows where they are, that she found them once while looking for some of her old things. Yearbooks and such."

Herman pretends that this doesn't perturb him. 

"Hell, I probably have those socked away somewhere."

"It sounds like you wouldn't have."

"Man, shut up," Herman grouses. Woody shrugs.

"It's true. Ever since we met all you have done is complain that high school and football ruined your life and more recently you have complained that it's Hagan's fault until-"

"Shut up, Woody."

"I'm right..."

 _We sat and made a list_  
_Of all the things that we had_  
_Down the backs of table tops_  
_Ticket stubs and your diaries_

Yes, the photographs and yearbooks and evidence that there was a them still exists. Every contact leaves a trace, every time people meet and live and interact something comes from it. 

In their case, four or five years of friendship bordering on love leaves boxes of residue.

Their high school days, one could say, had the stylistic resemblance to the relationship of Achilles and Patroclus. 

Inseparability, to the point that one could be convinced that they lived together, intimacy, emotionally anyhow. Constant or near-constant proximity, you could never find one of them alone without the other.

They realize too late, twenty years after, that they are not Achilles and Patroclus, this is not Aechea, and the truth is that things were never normal, they were never quite safe. 

Milford may seem sweet and classy and full of the charm of Americana, but she hides her fangs.

The old days were not perfect. There were stares and whispers and people who would gut you with their words and wear a smile while doing so. 

Milford twists the narrative when Patroclus fails Achilles.

Things are different ever after, the physical evidence is shoved away and hidden. The feelings, the emotional evidence, is pushed into the dark corners of the mind, while the heart wants what the heart wants. 

The dark ages, they are not done. The dark ages are still being lived. 

 _I read them all one day_  
_When loneliness came and you were away_  
_Oh they told me nothing new,_  
_But I love to read the words you used_

Twenty years after, the world strikes back. In every way they're cursed, cursed with a microcosm (Milford) that looks for ways to take people like them down. 

In every fairy tale, there's a way to break a curse.

It's a little on the nose to say true love's first kiss now, isn't it?

The offhand thought makes Herman turn red as he sits in the attic of his old, slightly-rotting property on the edge of Milford looking at a picture of them in one of his old dusty yearbooks.

The truth is that he's always been upfront with himself, maybe not with others but with himself. 

The truth is that he knows that Hagan has a nasty little habit of lying to himself from time to time to escape things that he thinks he can escape by ignoring.

Including maybe being head over heels for his (ex-)best friend. 

The truth is that now that Herman's thinking about it again there was never a thing he hated more than being stuck here, in this crappy town that would never understand a thing about him, to watch the only person he had ever truly loved fake himself into a marriage and a child.

No, it's not Mindy's fault in the slightest. It's funny, though, that she looks the image of her mother. 

It's not really Hagan's fault, either, Herman doubts that the guy is aware of what he's doing. He's always been kind of oblivious like that.

Still. They are leaving for space soon, leaving the world soon and leaving Milford soon and maybe in space he can find something that will convince him to say anything more.

 _These are the things, the things we lost_  
_The things we lost in the fire fire fire_  
_These are the things, the things we lost_  
_The things we lost in the fire fire fire_

They're briefed on what's going to happen before they leave. 

They'll be taking a transit ship to another, larger ship that's in orbit, and as spaceships go, Herman thinks it sounds pretty swanky. There's simulated gravity for long trips, which to him is kind of also a clue to the fact that the ship is probably years above the pay grade of the highest general in DETIA, and that it was also probably stolen.

The idea that there are aliens is a new thing to be getting used to as well. 

DETIA isn't happy about it, but everyone is resistant to the idea of going to space.

It's far, far away from everything ever known between the four of them, and far from some people. 

Namely, from Mindy.

Herman will deny with his dying breath that it stings, if only a little, to see her interacting with Hagan the day that they leave.

"Be good, okay?"

"Daddy..." 

"If you're not going to be good, at least say that you will for my peace of mind, okay? And if you're not going to be good, be safe."

"I'll be safe."

"That's all I want."

Okay, look, Herman doesn't seem so openly like the kind of guy who would like kids. He actually does. He has a soft place in his heart for them- mostly older kids, but still. 

And maybe it's a little bitter, and a lot frustrating, to see the guy you crushed on endlessly in high school and came within a heartbeat of dating for-real, being with for-real, and love effortlessly still interacting with his child, who isn't yours, will never be yours. 

 _I was the match and you were the rock_  
_Maybe we started this fire_  
_We sat apart and watched_  
_All we had burned on the pyre_

It's all well and good to watch the kids say goodbye.

Hagan feels a twist in his gut at the idea of leaving Mindy, that they have to go soon and he won't see her again, but at least it coincides with her departure for college. At least they can pretend that this is normal, because she's at that point in her life where she's leaving anyway.

They head for the courier ship while Woody and Zach linger with her, providing both parties a bit of privacy.

"You ready to spend a year drinking our own piss?"

"It's purified water."

"Maybe more than a year?"

"It's not like we're drinking it from the source, Herman," Hagan says with a sigh. "It's not urine if its been filtered."

"Whatever you say, piss drinker."

"Herman-"

"Piss drinker."

Herman snickers. 

"I think it's an upgrade from halfass, don't you?"

Hagan stiffens, his reaction to the name visceral. 

"Shit. Sorry."

"It's- and you'll be surprised to hear this- not your fault."

"Wait, what?"

"You aren't the only one who used that name. That's all."

"Nonono, wait a minute. What are you talking about."

"You know Milford. What do you think."

 _We were born with nothing_  
_And we sure as hell have nothing now_  
_(You said) we were born with nothing_  
_And we sure as hell have nothing now_

It's a few weeks into what could roughly be called training. It's Milford, and on top of that it's the Milford of the late 1990s. It's not that classy. 

It's maybe January, a cold day, the skies are gray and heavy and Hagan's tired. Last night he stayed up with Marina, talking about medical concerns and contingency plans and dear God they haven't even named the baby yet. It's been one thing after another since they found out not even two months ago, the matter of keeping it quiet and arranging a small wedding at the forefront. Now that that was completed, they could focus on what to do with their child.

He's broken from his train of stressful thought when their instructor slams a stack of papers on his desk. 

"Remind me why people call you half-ass Hagan."

There's a not so subtle flinch. 

"With respect, sir, I think everyone in the county knows that."

"Well, you'd better take care that you don't fail at something else the same way you did in '96," the instructor says icily. 

"Nobody likes a half-ass cop."

There's muffled oohs and general laughter from the class around him. Hagan grits his teeth and nods. 

"Yessir."

The instructor moves off. Hagan checks the papers. 

It's a test from a week or two ago, the week he married Marina, at least.

It's got a D written on it in red ink. He sighs, leaning his head on one of his hands. 

"Fuck."

"Maybe if you had spent some time studyin instead of with that girl, what's her face, Marian-"

"Marina, sir," Hagan corrects with barely controlled anger.

"Whatever- maybe then you wouldn't have to worry about that little brat of yours. Given it a name yet?" 

"No," Hagan practically growls.

"You might wanna think about that soon."

There's nothing in Hagan that wants to stop from growling bite me, which is certainly (he comments to himself with a pang of guilt) what Herman would have done, or told him to do.

Instead, though, out of fear of what could happen if he does, he takes a deep breath and fixes the idea in his head that he's going to support Marina and their child. He is. He has to, which, as everyone here knows, makes him essentially powerless.

Well, maybe. He likes to think that some strength of character applies, here.

"We will, sir."

 _These are the things, the things we lost_  
_The things we lost in the fire fire fire_  
_These are the things, the things we lost_  
_The things we lost in the fire fire fire_

"What the fuck," Herman snarls. "You should have told that son of a bitch to shove it up his tight asshole. You should have told him to suck your fucking dick, I don't give a shit what DETIA says, I'm gonna run back there and I'm gonna snap his fucking neck."

"It was almost nineteen years ago, Herman-"

"I don't give a shit!" Herman hisses. 

"It took me a long-ass time to understand, but you made a mistake. Or, a series of mistakes overall, but when it came to the game you failed. And that's not a bad thing because you weren't trying to."

"Herman, you don't need-"

"I do, because apparently I created a monster that people have been throwing at you for the last forever even though you're way past that point!"

"You're rather mature about it all of a sudden."

"I was mad that you failed," Herman snaps, and Hagan still flinches.

"Yeah, I was. But it's not your fucking fault that you did."

"Herman, come on."

"I'm gonna kick the fucking ass of anyone in this stupid little one horse town who ever says that shit to you again."

"It's less of a problem now..."

"Well when we get back for earth, I'm gonna hyperkick the limbs off of everyone who did anything like that."

"Herman..." Hagan sighs as Herman stalks ahead.

"I will never understand you."

 _Do you understand that we will never be the same again?_  
_Do you understand that we will never be the same again?_  
_The future's in our hands and we will never be the same again_  
_The future's in our hands and we will never be the same again_

It takes a second, once they break the atmosphere, for the ship's artificial gravity to kick in, and at the speed the ship moves they're almost past Pluto when they discover that whatever machine runs it is dodgy. 

DETIA directs one of the engineers down to try and fix it, and meanwhile, Herman and Zach decide to have a bit of fun.

They both get up and out of their seats (despite various briefings to the contrary), and Hagan and Woody watch them from below. 

"It's going to turn back on while you're up there."

"Come on, Hagan, live a little," Herman complains. Hagan sighs. 

"It's going to turn back on soon."

"Man, you don't know that."

"They're gonna fix it eventually."

"Yeah, but no gravity."

"This is fucking sweet," Zach interrupts. "I wonder if I can-"

He starts to move his gun arm, which is when Herman yelps and Hagan shouts him down with a chorus of 'no's. 

"Jeez, you guys are no fun."

They continue to play for a minute or so more before being dropped to the ground. Herman groans. 

"What the fuck is this floor made of, man?"

"I told you so."

 _These are the things, the things we lost_  
_The things we lost in the fire fire fire_  
_These are the things, the things we lost_  
_The things we lost in the fire fire fire_  
_These are the things, the things we lost_  
_These are the things we lost in the fire fire fir_ e

"You brought cigarettes."

"You bet your sweet ass I did."

Hagan reddens slightly.

"Why did you do that, they told us not to do that."

"Well," Herman says, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Sometimes, in the course of a lifetime, a guy gets permanently crippled for a good seventeen years...then gets healed by freaky alien shit that forces him to save the world and is additionally forced to deal with the heavy emotional baggage between himself and his ex-best-friend, most of that over about the course of five days. Then he gets forced to go to space, to fight more fucking aliens who may or may not destroy the planet. Sometimes, late at night in space, a guy feels that he deserves a goddamn cigarette for saving the fucking planet"

"Fair," is the only word that Hagan can manage. 

"Fair enough."

 _Flames – they licked the walls_  
_Tenderly they turned to dust all that I adore_


End file.
